


Stockings

by aphytick



Category: K-pop, Topp Dogg (Band)
Genre: Lingerie, M/M, Riding, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-19
Updated: 2014-06-19
Packaged: 2018-02-05 06:51:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1809277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aphytick/pseuds/aphytick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Byungjoo’s jaw drops.</p><p>Clipped on to the end of each leg of Hansol’s boxers were a pair of stockings. Not just any stockings; pale blue stockings, silk stockings, stockings with a lace trim. The hem stopped halfway up Hansol’s thigh to give way to the clasp and Byungjoo scanned them from the floor up. He swallowed, hard.</p><p>“They’re pretty, right?” Hansol laughs. “I’ve been wearing them all day.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stockings

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know where to begin apologizing. Anyway, this is just. pure smut, there is no substance, I am so sorry. Uh, yay for pushy power bottom Hansol...?
> 
> Please alert me of any spelling/gramatical errors, and also if I accidentally put a stage name in somewhere.

Byungjoo had been on edge all day. It had been hot enough in the practice room as it was, the stationary fans long since past the point where they could function, and the last thing he needed was to have Hansol’s hands all over him.

It wasn’t like  _that_ , they had only been practicing choreography after all but Byungjoo was being pushed closer and closer to the edge every time he felt Hansol’s hands on his chest and hip and Hansol’s breath on his neck for even just those few seconds.

It helped even less that Hansol had cornered him that morning, gave him a tilted grin and the promise that he had something planned for later. Whatever it was, Byungjoo wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

They had all been working themselves to the bone for the upcoming showcase and finally, with hair matted to their foreheads and shirts clinging to their backs they were given permission to go and wash up before they sat down to eat. Sanggyun called it first, darting in between the other members nimbly in order to reach the shower room door and Byungjoo decided he’d wait until it wasn’t so highly in demand.

Hansol sidled up to his side, knocking in to him coyly as they walked towards the dorm room. Byungjoo raised an eyebrow and Hansol ducked his head in a way that might have been mistaken for sheepish had it been anyone else but Hansol. He quickly slid his arm around Byungjoo’s and pulled him in to the room he shared with three of the other members, locking the door behind him.

There’s no mistaking Hansol’s intent, and Byungjoo couldn't say he was altogether against whatever Hansol had planned, but right now he was hot, and tired and far from being in the mood for any games. He planned on telling Hansol all of this, but Hansol grinned entirely too widely, showing off all his teeth.

“I bought these as a joke first.” He says. “I thought it’d be funny to make Yooncheol wear them, but they’re actually quite nice to have on.”

“What are you talking about?” Byungjoo asks, now curious more than anything.

“Just wait.” Hansol grins. He takes off his tank top in one practiced, fluid movement, throwing it in to the corner. “Sit down. In the chair, sit.”

Byungjoo complies, but only because there’s a spark behind Hansol’s eyes that’s got him interested.  Hansol hooks his thumbs in to the band of his baggy sweat pants and begins to tug them down. He goes slow at first, but whatever had him so excited had sapped him of all his patience, and he shoves them down until they hit the floor.

Byungjoo’s jaw drops.

Clipped on to the end of each leg of Hansol’s boxers were a pair of stockings. Not just any stockings; pale blue stockings, silk stockings, stockings with a  _lace trim._ The hem stopped halfway up Hansol’s thigh to give way to the clasp and Byungjoo scanned them from the floor up. He swallowed, hard.

“They’re pretty, right?” Hansol laughed. “I’ve been wearing them all day.”

Byungjoo didn’t know what to say. The fact that, underneath unassuming sweatpants Hansol wore something like  _this_ , well – it worked for him. He was openly staring and he could tell Hansol was enjoying every second.

Hansol walks over to where Byungjoo sat, footsteps padded by the soft material. He leaned forward until his eyes are level with Byungjoo’s.

“Do you like them?”

Byungjoo’s mouth fails him for just a second before he teases Hansol. “I think they would have looked better on Yooncheol.”

Hansol pouts, shoving Byungjoo lightly on his shoulder before he moves forward further and places his hands on Byungjoo’s thighs. They slide up, slowly, thumbs digging mercilessly in to the juncture between his thighs and his pelvis. He leans in and pulls at Byungjoo’s bottom lip with sharp teeth, leaving nicks that the other members are sure to see, but he doesn’t kiss him. Instead, he pulls back and kneels to pull Byungjoo’s own pants down to remove them, instructing Byungjoo to do the same with his shirt.

Byungjoo considers refusing, just for fun, just to rile Hansol up a little but he fears he may offend Hansol and that this whole thing would stop so instead, with much less showmanship than Hansol was offering, he begins to remove his own clothes.

Hansol’s got his pants down around his ankles and he nips at the inside of Byungjoo’s thigh as Byungjoo steps out of them. He leaves the boxers on for now, and perches on the ends of Byungjoo’s knees. Byunjgoo can feel the silk slide beautifully againt his skin, cool and soft – he could see why Hansol like wearing them so much.

Hansol crosses his ankles against the back of the chair and leans forward, placing his mouth against the shell of Byungjoon's ear. He grins, Byungjoo can feel it, and in a word it is devilish. “Be good, Byungjoo, and I might let you fuck me.”

Byungjoo's mouth pops open for the second time.

It’s always like this. Even though Byungjoo had been branded the energy pill of the group, Hansol had the ability to silence him with mere words. Even though Hansol was the cute face of the group, behind that he had filthy thoughts and a filthy mouth.

Byungjoo wants to kiss those words right from his mouth, but when he moves to do so Hansol leans back.

“No. Tonight, this is my show.” He grins. “You don’t get to touch me until I say so.”

“Eh?!” Byungjoo cries out. “But how is that fair?”

“Just play along.” Hansol says, leaning in to place his lips against Byungjoo’s neck. “It’ll be worth it if you behave.”

Byungjoo opens his mouth to berate Hansol, but instead of words a low moan punches through him as Hansol sucks harshly on his neck. It will bruise, badly, Byungjoo can tell, but it’s a weak point and he can’t quite bring himself to tell Hansol to ease up. Byungjoo aches to touch him, to reciprocate, but he knows that once Hansol had an idea in his head, he wouldn’t stop until he felt he was finished.

 Byungjoo’s head rolls back on his shoulders as Hansol continues his ministrations on his neck, and he can feel Hansol shift forward ever so slightly until he’s got Byungjoo’s dick pinned against his stomach. Byungjoo has to reach down and dig his fingers in to the underside of the chair in order to keep in line with Hansol’s rules; it’s so difficult not to touch him, anywhere and everywhere, especially when he’s like this.

“Hansol.” He breathes, trying to make it sound like a warning, trying to assert some sense of authority that he rightfully does not have, and he feels Hansol chuckle against his neck.

“Just a bit longer.” He says, pulling back and clambering off of Byungjoo’s knees. He walks over to the set of drawers in between the bunks, opening the drawer marked with his name and digs around the back until he finds what he needs. He takes the condom and the lube back over to Byungjoo, who stares up at him questioningly. Surely the manager would have noticed, he thinks. Buying the stockings was one thing, he could have easily disguised them as socks to anyone who wouldn’t look closely enough, but these items are unmistakeable in both their form and purpose.

Regardless, Byungjoo reaches out to take them, but Hansol bats away his hand.

“I want to do it.” He says simply, dropping to his knees in front of Byungjoo. With nimble fingers, he tears open the condom wrapper and pulls it out. Byungjoo gets the message and raises his hips so he can take his boxers off. Hansol seems to find it amusing that Byungjoo is already so hard, but Byungjoo is simply thankful that this doesn’t have to take any longer than he can stand.

Hansol pinches the tip of the condom and aligns it with the head of Byungjoo’s dick, rolling it on with slow, deliberate movements. Byungjoo hisses through his teeth, legs fidgeting as Hansol makes a point to run his hand down Byungjoo’s length a few times for good measure.

“You do the rest.” He says, taking his hand off and standing to hand Byungjoo the lube. Byungjoo’s hand shakes as he pops open the cap of the lube and coats the condom with it, even more so when Hansol moves to take his own boxers off. He unclips the stockings first, but doesn’t remove them, instead choosing to take his underwear off over them.

Byungjoo feels his breath come out shallowly at the sight of Hansol in nothing but blue silk stockings, and he finds himself thankful that Hansol bought them, even if only for a joke initially. He takes his hand away to let Hansol know he’s done preparing, and Hansol smirks at him before stepping over and sitting once again in Byungjoo’s lap.

“You’ve been very good, Joo.” Hansol says, and Byungjoo scrunches his nose up at the name. Hansol places his hands on his shoulders for support as he lifts himself up, fingers then digging in as he lowers himself down on to Byungjoo’s dick.

His breath comes out laboured and harsh, and Byungjoo reaches forward to take Hansol by the waist but Hansol still won’t let him, hands darting down to pin Byungjoo’s wrists to the arms of the chair.

“Are you disobeying your hyung?” Hansol asks. “Did I not say you couldn’t touch me?”

Byungjoo knows it’s said in jest, he can tell by how Hnasol’s mouth twitches at one corner, and he sighs in mock derision. “You could kiss me, at least.”

Hansol hums. “I  _could._ ” He agrees, but he doesn’t, of course he doesn’t. Instead, he moves his hands from Byungjoo’s wrists and places them behind him on Byungjoo’s knees for support.

“Han _sol_.” Byungjoo begins, but it dies in his throat as Hansol rolls his hips once. Byungjoo sucks air in as his fingers scrabble once more against the underside of the chair in a desperate effort for self-restraint. Hansol grins with pride laced with a heady arousal, and repeats the action more forcefully until Byungjoo’s left gasping underneath him.

The silk grazes his sides, and Hansol’s ass grazes his thighs and when he’s feeling bold, Hansol’s mouth grazes his skin and it’s all becoming far too much for Byungjoo as he comes apart due to Hansol’s actions. Hansol is beginning to lose his composure too, the devilish act falling away piece by piece as his arms begin to buckle and his riding becomes more frantic.

His head tips back and broken moans topple from his lips and Byungjoo can’t stand it much longer. He ignores Hansol’s rule, wrapping his arms around Hansol’s back and pulling him to his chest. He puts his mouth all over Hansol’s skin, sucking dark marks above his rib cage and his nails dig in to Hansol’s back, marring it with angry red indents.

Hansol’s too far gone to remember his own demands, and wraps his arms around Byungjoo’s neck, pulling him closer to allow him to rubs his dick against Byungjoo’s stomach. He puts a hand in Byungjoo’s hair, guiding him across his skin as he continues to ride him, moans now breaking in to pitched whines that can almost certainly be heard in the common area of the dorm.

There’s no rhythm to any of this now, and Hansol moves his hips until he is coming all over his own and Byungjoo’s stomach, back arching wildly. He would have toppled over had Byungjoo not had such a hold on him. Byungjoo soon follows, pressing his forehead in to Hansol’s heaving chest as he comes in to the condom. He’s not as loud as Hansol, not by a long stretch, but he makes up for it by how violently his body shakes as he comes down.

Byungjoo’s glad at this point that he hadn’t showered first, because he certainly needed one now, but it’s Hansol who is in the worst state. He clambers off Byungjoo and Byungjoo takes it all in – the way his hair hangs limply in his eyes, damp from sweat and exertion. His own come generously smeared all over his abdomen. The left stocking sagging almost below his knee. His skin is flushed and he’s still breathing hard, but the grin on his face is an accomplished one.

Byungjoo pushes his own hair back from his forehead, although it is reluctant to stay that way.

“Still think these would look better on Yooncheol?” Hansol pushes, and Byungjoo laughs, shaking his head in defeat.

If all of Hansol’s jokes ended up this way, Byungjoo’s not sure that he would mind.


End file.
